Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder
by Vestrael
Summary: Hidden in various realms are ancient relics that when combined are used to procure transportation to any dimension. When an ancient race gets ahold of one of the artifacts, it’s up to a Fool-hardy Magus, and his apprentice to put a stop to the onslaught of the Human race.
1. Scene 1

Into the night.

It was the dead of night, and the alley cats were to begin their evening harvest.

Through a pair glassy eyes the hermit looked through his belongings.

He fondled around looking for a particular item, but alas his precious no-thing could not be found.

This thing of his, the No-thing mesmerized all who gazed upon its surface. With a toothy grin he'd look about it; parading it about in his wretched palms. Tossing it this way and that; weight shifting betwixt the air. His No-thing held prominence, and it tore him apart dreading what could've possibly become of his possession.

A loud clanking sound could be heard, as the Hermit paced about in his Tin Can Campbell's Soup "shoes". He recalled a time when the No-thing was a sight to behold for all.

Enter memory*

A finely dressed young man is seen tousling his golden hair, as he admires the view in the mirror in front of him.

"I must be among the most beautiful individuals within leagues of here! Why, my complexion suggests I was made by the Goddess Aphrodite herself!"

He lays bare a splendid smile, one that captivated any unfortunate soul that bore witness.

He was a pompous ass for lack of a better term.

He strut his stuff as he packed a peculiar handkerchief in his vest pocket.

He stopped. He backtracks to the mirror in the distance. He gives his vanity one last "How you doin."

"Why, any dame would be blessed to have such a beautiful man in her presence." There are none who are more worthy of the Heavens than I! He boomed.

The ground begins to shake.*

He watched in horror as his Vanity teetered back and forth.

It stopped on three legs, and one in the air. It seemed all was well when...

A door slams in the background*

The young man fell apart as he watched his reflection shatter into a million fragments of splendor.

Enraged, the man thrusts his fist into the air.

"Who dares demand my presence, and is safe from my hands gripping their very life force!

Like the pressure of 50psi in his chest, he tumbled down to the floor. He took handfuls of glass and gripped them tightly. Crimson blood streamed from his palms, and made their way to the floor. He let out a ghastly wail, as the realization of pain struck him. He threw the shards away from his person. Remarkably, the shards remained motionless in mid air, blood still dripping from their surface. They looked as though they had been strung together for a haunted house. In the tiny shards of glass, the Man saw his reflection once more... no what seemed like a million times over. He touched a fragment to see the result. It was as if it had been frozen in time.

"This is so beautiful, I never imagined I could be so beautiful on the inside as well!"

It was truly a sight to behold. He took a fragment of mirror from the air, not bothering to clean its surface he went to check on the intruder.

"Should I find this presence is malevolent in nature, it shall find shards of glass rip through its flesh." He crept down the stairs, and saw a shadow race across the walls. It was leading him somewhere. He decided against common sense, and let his curiosity get the better of him.

He chased after the shadow. The man soon finds himself on his terrace. The silhouette is nowhere to be seen.

A bellowing voice is heard*

"I-I-I know wh-who you are Vagabond."

The man stares off into the distance, attempting to find the source.

"I can't see you Shadow, I demand you make your presence known!"

sinister cackle* V-very well then.

A voice carries on the wind.

"I am No-Thing, and you're an arrogant Vagabond. I find your love of your appearance... appetizing."

The shadow materializes on a wall just out of reach.

"Shadow, do you intend to make me ask again? I demand that you show me your face!"

"Hasty... how delicious."

shadow appears before the man*

To his surprise, the shadow begins to shed a layer of void.

He watches as a likeness of his visage appears in before him.

"I am a sort of doppelgänger, Vagabond. Not just any trickster though."

A shroud of smoke engulfs the entity. In its place, a tall sinister looking individual is seen.

It had pale skin, and symbols that were scarred into its flesh.

It's face held only two notable features:

A gaping mouth, tongue; long and forked.

A pair of eyeless dark sockets that reminded him of a Jack o' lantern.

In the place of eyes; emerald fire that seemed to invoke nausea and terror casually flickered.

The No-Thing's pale tongue slithered along the ground, resembling the movement of a serpent.

Following the facial features, it lined a neck, that must've been a foot long. Jagged shoulders that wind down to Tendril like arms. At the tip, it's claws reminded the man of translucent Obsidian.

"So who are you?" The man asks.

Unphased, the No-thing lets it's tendrils swing back and forth, allowing its claws to sharpen.

"I-I'm going to kill you now, Vagabond."

Before the man has a chance to react, a tendril shoots through his throat.

Blood pours out, and his eyes lose their luster.

"Pity, I thought you'd fight more. I guess it can't be helped."

The No-thing grabs hold of his victim; and breaks his jaw. He stretches his skin far enough that the No-Thing is able to step into his body.

"I'll be you from now on, and I'll harvest your newfound ability as well.

Everything you were, I will seek to destroy."

The No-thing cackles*

A passerby has the unfortunate moment to pass by the Nothing taking over its new vessel.

The pedestrian stood in horror, trying not to scream; but failed miserably.

The No-thing took notice, and wasted no time greeting him.

A blood curdling scream escaped the man's lips, as he tried to run for his life.

It was no use, the No-thing outstretched his obscenely long arm and took hold of the man's leg. The claws cut through his ankle like warm butter.

"Oh how I do enjoy a little game before every meal!"

Blood spurted along the concrete as the man's now severed foot stood upright like a sanguine display.

"Oh young man, you seem to have left your foot!" The No-thing exclaimed.

It was too late, it wouldn't be long before the man would either bleed out, or the No-thing would dine on him in the most painful way imaginable.

A negligible chant was heard, and the wound on the man's leg was cast fire, and then seared. He belted out a scream that made the Heavens tremble. The No-thing looked around to see what presence dare to take his dinner's pain away. His tongue writhed and flickered about in the air, as if sensing the source of Magickal power. "Do'gdme horos'ime geas fiurn" a ball of fire materializes and is shot toward the No-thing.

The flames in its sockets flickered wildly, threatening to go out. "Zen'ma orida joridu kel!" The Fire splits into several smaller balls of flame. Together they spiral up in the air, and rain down, creating a cage of scarlet flame. The mage makes his appearance known. The No-thing steps toward the inferno, and looks at his captor.

The man wore a brown leather duster, a hat to match. His face was peculiar however. One of his eyes bared a magus symbol over the iris. In the middle of his forehead, a single crescent. The other eye, golden like the essence. The Mage says an incantation once more.

"Indu'mn seat cen."

The No-thing's skin begins to boil, and noticeably evaporate like water. It lets out a blood curdling screech as it vanishes. Laying bare the vessel he once took hold of. The man floats down to the ground, and lays flat.. lifeless.

The Mage kneels beside the vessel, and says "You are free from the No-thing... for now.

(Take note that the No-thing is not just one size; it can be big or small; invisible or visible. The No-thing feeds on Vainglorious mortals.)

The Mage puts his right hand on the Vessel.

"Ture'a fim'e liv dur'andal."

A ring of light encircles the surrounding area of the mages hand. Light shines down from above, and materializes into a crystalline form. Upon seeing this, the Mage removes his hand, and the Crystalline structure fuses with the vessel.

You are now reborn a warrior. You are to be given a new name. The vessel regains conciousness. He grips the ground beneath him to pull himself up.

"Ma'teal!" he cries.

"Indeed, and I shall be your mentor. You may call me Synwe, the magus of Harmony."

A


	2. Scene 2

[i] memory fades out

The Hermit stares glassy eyed at the end of the alley way. His cart, full of "trash" and screws/bolts; lies just ahead rusted, and in need of some WD-40.

He picks up a nearby can, and chucks it toward the cart. Oddly enough, the can bounces back, as if acted upon by some unknown force.

"There you are, my precious No-thing." Said the Hermit.

A hissing sound is heard as what appears to a large semi-transparent serpent makes his way toward the Hermit.

"Damn you Ma'teal, I figured you'd be too stupid to notice me!" The serpent slithers closer.

"Surely you thought me better than some run of the mill magician."

Ma'teal removes the Hermit disguise, and a light begins to envelop him.

Rays of different colors shoot out in either direction. Allowing Ma'teal to receive his dramatic entrance.

"A bit full of yourself, as always Vagabond" the No-thing hissed.

A ornate sword is thrust into the cold ground beneath him. The symbols on the sword light up and remove themselves from the blade. They circle around the No-thing, entrapping it.

"Fiurne d'iruma fes". Ma'teal cried

The symbols catch fire, and viciously swirl around their target.

Unable to breathe, the No-thing coils up as tight as it can. The flames sear its scales, and the flesh hidden beneath it. The No-thing changes form multiple times before burning up. The last form it took was of a man with a missing foot.

Ma'teal remembered this man, from when he was possessed by the No-thing so many years ago.

He wept tears for the man, as he recalls that Synwe didn't get to him in time. He may have seared the wound, but unfortunately; the man died of a premature heart-attack.

"Zifal re yu-to"

The flames chained up the No-thing's last form, leaving nothing but a skull behind.

Ma'teal walks up to pick up the familiar skull. To his dismay, the skull crumbles into ash as soon as he lays a finger on its surface.

Ma'teal stumbles to his knees. With a handful of ash, he grips it tightly.

"I realize this is only a trick, but God Damnit it feels like a knife between twisted in a wound."

"I saw that man get tortured, and I was unable to stop it. The No-thing's dark energy held me comatose. He tore apart my jaw, presumably killing me; but for some reason my soul stayed in-tact."

Now I know it was so that I may receive a second chance to prove myself. I lived a life that revolved around myself, and only so.

Upon seeing that man's light flicker out from the horror he had to endure... it changes you.

Changed me even.

A wispy smoke rolls in, winding up Ma'teal's leg.

"I see you successfully destroyed your target, Ma'teal. I watched from the light of that near-by street light."

[i] he points to a rickety rusty lamp stand.

"It seems you may be ready for your next task."

Ma'teal stood silent.

"It seems there is a Doppelgänger that is wreaking havoc in Hollywood. Sure, it's a superficial shithole; but it's destroying celebrities lives. Presumably a clever No-Thing, you are to address this being with extreme caution."

[i] a suitcase appears in Synwe's hand

"Oh, and you'll be needing this. It will ensure success, should you approach this situation professionally."

[i] Ma'teal is handed the suitcase. He opens it

Inside are bundles of ones, fives, and tens. It was the smell however, that really got his attention. It reminded him of his darker days.

"That's right Ma'teal, I'm sending you to a strip club! The Doppelgänger is impersonating celebrities as a stripper. Presumably blowing up the buzz on the internet with all kinds of affairs, and scandalous mishaps.

Some celebrities are okay with it, as they presume they were black-out drunk anyway; and just chalk it up to being rich and 'having a few to celebrate.' "

But, Synwe.. should I find this doppelgänger, how do I get close to it? Ma'teal sheepishly asks

Ma'teal, it's a strip club, and you have a suitcase full of singles. You can figure the rest out. Synwe scoffs

[i] Ma'teal bows his head in shame.

A


	3. Scene 3

Ma'teal, shall we take leave of this hobble?

We shall.

Ma'teal thrusts his sword into the ground

Mana fills the blade once more, and disperses into a million flickering lights.

Images flash before them showing locations around the world.

An image of the Hollywood sign appears, and Ma'teal takes a running start into it.

Scene changes, and they're transported to Los Angeles.

Ma'teal there are plenty of women to be had here in sin city, however we're after the Queen of the Damned... or as she is known by... Qarinah.

I'm sorry, you said Queen of the damned? A demon is going to help us?

Synwe leers at Ma'teal

Qarinah is unlike any woman you have yet to come across. One glance and she'll have you on your knees begging for mercy. Not in the way you'd expect either.

She's born by Lilith; the actual first woman according to Holy scripture. When God had Adam lay with her, she refused him because she wanted something more than missionary. She was cast out of the Garden of Eden, and replaced by Eve. Lilith has since climbed her way to the top in Hell, rivaling power with Satan itself.

That being said, having been born from the Queen herself, she has some nasty attributes that will make you think twice about her appearance.

She may be Drop dead gorgeous, but she'll end you just as quick. Lesser known fact, is that Qarinah is a Lillin, a succubi arch-demon that feeds off a man's dreams, and turns them into a lustful yet life draining venture into hell.

I'll be needing you to keep your dirty hands to yourself, and respect her wishes. Because, if you don't, you'll likely be her next meal.

Ma'teal looks fearfully into the distance. He notices a sinister aura emanating from a nearby pedestrian.

That must be our target, Synwe we should follow that entity.

This is your fight, Ma'teal. Synwe vanishes.

Upon closer inspection, the entity's face was now in plain view. It's eyes were black as coal, it's skin writhed as though snakes were crawling inside. It wore a blank expression, but had a foul odor that suggested death. It moved erratically, as though it was having a seizure. It turns a corner, and the entity stops dead in its tracks.

Ma'teal prepares an incantation

A crunching sound is made as the entity's head twists around to meet Ma'teal's gaze. It's jaw unhinges, and begins to turn into a sinister smile. Razor sharp teeth, Yellow and blood stained suggested a fight was to ensue.

Ma'teal jumps back, and casts a fireball at the creature.

Surprisingly enough, the entity's appearance warps and the fireball bursts into a nearby brick wall.

Fire must not affect it, Ma'teal thinks to himself.

The creature howls, and makes his way to slash at Ma'teal,

'Indu'as ster!' Ma'teal vanishes and reappears several feet away. The creature's claws launch into the pavement, and leave deep gashes.

It begins to let out a blood curdling screech, that disorients Ma'teal, and reveals a lifeless Synwe not far off. The creature then melts into the shadow beneath it, and races toward Synwe's body.

Having gained his senses, Ma'teal calls out another incantation. "Wer'du jin figalin" several chain links of mana appear in his hands. He casts the chain toward the entity, binding it. Unable to move, the creature howls once more.

The skies above darken, and the ground beneath it opens up. Hellfire licks its way up the Earth. A slender, yet busty woman appears. She has tan skin, eyes like fire, and a dress black as Midnight that trails into tiny emberlike tatters.

"I've grown tired of your shit, demon."

The woman frees the demon, only to incinerate it. White fire envelops the demon, and in the blink of an eye... it was gone.

The woman, looks over to Ma'teal.

"Well, aren't you just an amateur. You nearly killed your mentor."

She walks over to Synwe, who appears petrified. She bends down to kiss his lips, and he lets out a gasp for air.

Qarinah, he says. We were looking for you.


	4. Scene4

As Ma'teal was led by Qarinah he took note of the scenery around him. Every block they'd pass a beggar or two huddled around an amber lit barrel for warmth. The smell was unnerving, but still they pressed on. Qarinah stopped dead in her tracks at what appeared to be wrought iron gate. This is our stop, pretty boy. Fasten your seatbelt, because it's about to get pretty wild.

Before Ma'teal could say anything, the ground beneath them began to quake. Oh by the by playboy, those beggars are an illusion. It helps keep unwanted visitors at bay. The "beggars" appearance changed dramatically. He watched in disgust as their bodies twisted and turned into what appeared to be Horned imps. Their skin was scarlet red, and was scaly in appearance. They were no taller than a overgrown toddler, and their speech was limited. It sounded like small screeches and purs in excitement. They gathered around Qarinah like a group of lost puppies. My babies, Momma's home! Did you miss me? The imps bit and clawed at each other, seemingly because they wanted Qarinah's undivided attention.

Hush now, we can go home. The ground continues to shake, and then start to collapse into a hidden stairway. Come now, Ma'teal this is where Hell reigns supreme.

He gingerly took each step down, careful not to step on one of the Imp's tails.

By the fifth step, various sounds of pleasure could now be heard. One in particular really got his attention.

"Oh yeah master, fuck me harder! I've been a bad boy! Umph, yeah, right there... I said Harder!! (The slapping of skin now sounded like a freight train) Ahhhhhhhhh!!!" Silence...

Ma'teal turned beet red, and Qarinah took notice.

"Oh? Does that excite you lover boy? Well, that's only a fraction of what you'll experience under my care."

Soon Three scantily dressed women appeared at their side. They were admiring Ma'teal's... cow hide.

Giggling and biting their lips, they caress his skin. Allowing their hands to wander, they reach their target.

Ma'teal closed his eyes, and took in the experience.

Suddenly, he felt a hand, then two, and they went for the patch.

Qarinah intervened.

"Now ladies, we must allow our guest to get settled before we get too excited."

The women giggled in glee, as they took their leave.

Ma'teal opened his eyes, and smiled like a dumbass. That was real nice, I could get used to this.

"Come now, you need to get settled in, so we can get you on that pole. You've got a nice crowd coming... and just for you." She winks.

Ma'teal straightens his body, and puffs out his chest.

"I suppose I shouldn't keep them waiting much longer then."


End file.
